Some Unspoken Thing
by LittleKy
Summary: Green, Toshinori has always thought, is the color of life anew. (Or: It's time for Yagi Toshinori to finally accept that he has a son, now, in all but blood. It's time for Midoriya Hisashi to accept that as well.)
1. Nature's first green is gold

**AN****:** This was basically an excuse to just blurt out a bunch of my love for All Might and Deku. I wanted to try my hand at this fandom because my brother got me to finally watch the show this summer, and I ended up absolutely falling in love with it. Split into two chapters because the piece where Toshinori meets Hisashi is significantly longer than the little driblets here.

So, with all that, I present my first My Hero fic! I hope I do these characters justice. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1****: **Nature's first green is gold

Yagi Toshinori doesn't know the exact moment it all begins; perhaps, he muses, it's in their very earliest days. Maybe it's with something small, such as the way his heart seems to swell up on the mornings he trains Midoriya Izuku, bright and early, who rubs the sleep from his eyes and murmurs his "Good morning, All Might" between lion-sized yawns. The child, enthusiastic and driven as he is, will never be a morning person.

"Good morning, Midoriya, my boy."

In a previous life, Toshinori _had_ been a morning person. He'd set each alarm early enough to awaken before the sun. Each of those mornings, he'd watch as the sun rose and he'd beam right back at it, promising to save everyone in it's light.

Nowadays, though, mornings arrived with stiffened joints and aching, old wounds and blood coughed up into the sink. Along with the fact that he could only hold his hero form for three hours of the day (and did it matter, really, which three those were?) he'd stopped setting the alarms. He'd awaken either whenever his body decided to do so, or when a distress call sent him rushing off to his duties.

Up until recent days, that is. Until he'd saved a quirkless, over-emotional, _brilliant_ boy from a sludge villain.

"All Might? Are you ready to go?" Izuku asks sleepily, noting the content look on his mentor's face with some curiosity, and Toshinori remembers himself. The man grins largely in response, clasping a hand onto Izuku's small shoulder.

"Yes, my boy. I'm ready."

He doesn't quite know the name of this unspoken thing that prompts him to set his morning alarms again. The _thing_ that nudges him out of bed early enough to prepare food for the day- not just for one person with half a stomach, but for another with a still-growing one.

No, he doesn't know it's name, and he doesn't feel the need to give it one.

Not yet, anyway.

* * *

He doesn't know the exact moment it all begins. Likewise, he doesn't know when he fully realizes what he's gotten himself into.

Perhaps it's when _other_ people begin to point it out.

"Oh, knock it off, will you? You're like a damn gloating father over there," Aizawa drawls. Toshinori gapes- not because he's taken offense, but because he honestly doesn't know why he's being reprimanded.

"What- what do you mean?"

"You could at least _try_ hiding your blatant favoritism for the problem child." Aizawa rolls his eyes at the man's total lack of self-awareness when Toshinori just looks surprised. "Your face is about to split in half anytime we bring up how he's doing in practice runs. How he's doing in _anything_, really. If you keep it up, people are going to start rumors that he's your love child or something."

Aizawa is dry as ever, but there's no venom to his tone. Toshinori blushes anyway. "That's- Midoriya isn't my kid!" He's not _that_ bad, is he? Maybe he needs to work on schooling his expressions... "Besides, if you really want to go there, couldn't one say the same about you and Young Shinsou? You even look enough alike to back up the theory."

Aizawa bats him off easily. "Whatever. You don't see _me_ lighting up like a neon sign whenever Shinsou does anything even remotely impressive," is all he retorts.

Toshinori hides a smile at the man's disgruntled expression. The two of them have next to nothing in common, he thinks, and they'll likely never be close. But Toshinori has great respect for the way Aizawa cares (albeit secretly, under many layers of prickly exterior) after his students. And there is a familiarity, there, in the way Aizawa's been driven to take one under his own wing.

'Gloating father', huh? Aizawa had meant it as a jab, and it may have thrown Toshinori off guard, but he blinks when he realizes how little the comment actually bothers him.

Almost not at all.

* * *

Perhaps it's when he realizes he's formed a new and personalized definition of 'family'.

"What flavor are you going to get? What's your_ favorite_ flavor?"

Toshinori looks down at the mess of green curls standing next to him in line at the ice cream shop. He smiles at the simplicity of the questions. Always so earnest, even in the little things, this boy is. "Probably strawberry. And yours?"

Izuku stops to contemplate it, as though it's a very important question, one that no one has ever asked him before. "Rocky road," he finally declares. Toshinori notices the way he's eyeing all of the families bustling in and out of the shop. Even after they've picked a booth and sat down with their ice cream. "You're rather thoughtful today, Young Midoriya," he finally points out. "Something in particular on your mind?"

Izuku startles like he's been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "Oh. Yeah. I was just wondering, um... if you ever wish you'd gotten married? Or had kids?"

Toshinori sputters a bit into his ice cream and Izuku flails about. "Sorry, sorry! I knew that was too personal!"

"Not at all, my boy. It's a perfectly fine question!" Toshinori reassures the ever-flustered child. "I was just surprised. No one's ever really asked me that before." He pauses thoughtfully. "You know, honestly, I never even had the time to think about it. Being the Symbol of Peace was a dream and duty so large for me," he keeps his voice low and hushed in case of nosy passerbys, "that it left room for little else. And I think I preferred it that way."

He looks at Izuku. The kid's gotten chocolate all over the tip of his nose. Without even thinking twice, Toshinori grabs a napkin and wets it. "But now that you ask..." he rubs the chocolate off with an extra little tweak to Izuku's nose, much to the boy's chagrin, "I don't have any regrets about how things came to be." A teasing look spreads across his face. "I've got my hands full enough with _you_ now, anyway, don't I? And I'm afraid you're a bit of a trouble magnet, my boy."

Izuku immediately protests (halfheartedly, because he can't_ totally_ argue with that) and Toshinori gives a booming laugh.

Inwardly, out of a sudden and nagging curiosity, he does attempt to picture himself with a family. With a wife, with children of their own, with perhaps a dog and a white picket fence. His mind draws a blank, though; truthfully, all he can see is the freckled face in front of him. One who's already managed to get more chocolate on his nose.

As he reaches for a napkin yet again, Toshinori doesn't have a name for the feeling that bubbles up in his chest with that.

It's more than he'd ever asked for.

* * *

Perhaps it's when he realizes how much the stakes have changed for him, personally.

All Might, the Number One Hero and glorified Symbol of Peace, had little to be held over his head before. Having had no family, very few friends to speak of and an identity kept secret, he'd not had any biases; everyone's safety was of near equal importance.

Now, though, with the way his heart rate spikes up dangerously with a single phone call, he can't deny there is someone who ranks above the rest for him.

"The League of Villains ambushed the camp, All Might. Those poor kids must have put up a damn good fight. No fatalities, thank God, but twenty-four people have been counted as injured. And according to reports, two people have been taken captive."

Katsuki Bakugo and Pro Hero Ragdoll, Toshinori discovers after a beat, after his heart has begun it's series of stutters and flip flops.

He has the decency to feel the tiniest bit of guilt for the relief that floods him when Izuku's name is left off that list.

Of _course_ he is enraged that Young Bakugo has been snatched from right under the school's nose. He cares for each and every one of his students, dearly and wholeheartedly, even the ones as roughly-edged as Bakugo. He holds a bit of each of their futures in his battle-worn hands, after all; a responsibility he will never take lightly. He is righteously angry when injustice falls upon _anyone_, and he is greatly concerned for Ragdoll all the same.

He is the Symbol of Peace for good reason.

But in another world, where Izuku's name had made that same list...

All Might's rescue would have been just a bit less clear-headed, a little less clean-cut. His signature beaming grin and ever-steady promise of "_I_ am here!" upon barging into the villain's hideout would have been noticeably absent, replaced instead by a ticking jaw and a grip on a villain's neck too tight, the only promise being the hell of a parent's rage.

* * *

Perhaps it's the way he finds new and impossible strength, one drawn from a previously empty reservoir, after a gleeful All For One taunts him with a single name: _'Midoriya Izuku'._

All Might _needs_ to survive this. Not even for humanity's sake. Whether he lives or dies here, he cannot protect civilization anymore. He has officially given them all he has, all that he is.

There is one person who does still need his guidance, though, and All Might will live on for his student. For his successor. No, for his-

Toshinori loves the world, _loves_ humankind wholly and truly, with a passion that baffles most. This unwavering love has fueled his lifelong stand as the pillar humanity leans on.

He doesn't know exactly when he learned to love a single person with that kind of ferocity, but the sound of his prodigy's name out of his nemesis' mouth has him deciding_ I will not die today_.

(Funny. He'd accepted his own death long ago, much to Nighteye's disapproval and dismay. Had even rushed headlong into it, satisfied with his life's run and ready to embrace his end with open arms.

Now, though, the_ thing_ inside him yet to be named has him suddenly fleeing like a bat out of hell in the opposite direction.)

* * *

Perhaps it's when he realizes he is truly seen. Not only as All Might, but as Yagi Toshinori, as well.

"Sorry, All Might," Izuku is saying softly. Green tufts of hair poke out from under his wool cap. Toshinori blinks up at the boy in confusion. "I didn't mean to wake you. You were shivering, so I gave you my scarf. Are- are you cold?"

Toshinori blinks again to clear up his vision. He's dozed off under the oldest and largest tree on campus, his hands clasped together to rest on top of his chest. Autumn leaves have fallen to lay across his long, thin legs and onto his bony shoulders. Beautifully warm reds and oranges, golds and brown.

He used to find the colors of fall dull, sad even. The entire season once reminded him only of the decay leading to death. Now, though, he finds he has a newfound respect; autumn colors, Toshinori thinks, are actually a final and brilliant flash before the death that winter will bring. They are one last remarkable show, one last stunning refusal of nature to die.

"Why, thank you, my boy. You know you can always call me by my given name, right? Toshinori." He gingerly adjusts the new yellow, cotton addition under his own chin. "Though I know All Might is... _was_, who you've always looked up to." He can't help the shivering that starts up again.

"Yeah," Izuku says with a furrowed brow. "He _is.__" _He plops right down into the leaf pile next to his mentor with a loud _crunch. _More leaves fall around the boy, red mixed with gold, spiraling in their dance to the ground. "Just because you can't get big and muscle-y or punch people into the sky doesn't mean you're not still the strongest man in the whole world, Toshi."

Like a little mother hen, Izuku reaches up to gently poke his scarf more snugly around Toshinori's neck. He's so focused on his handiwork, tongue sticking out all the while, that he misses the way Toshinori can't stop looking at him. "There," he says simply, glancing up at Toshinori. His eyes are the brightest green the hero has ever seen.

(Green, Toshinori has always thought, is the color of life anew.)

"Are you still cold?"

Toshinori's smile grows until he feels as though his face, as Aizawa had remarked not too long ago, might split right in two. "No, my boy." For his heart is fully warmed when Izuku beams happily back at him. "I think I'll be just fine."

* * *

There are vivid, brutal nightmares after he survives Kamino Ward. The world may have sung his praises more loudly than ever, even when faced with his sickly and broken form, but it all still signifies the end of All Might. He doesn't know how or if he'll ever come to terms with being stripped of his most prided ability: to protect. He can no longer defend his students, his colleagues, his friends.

Can no longer protect his-

He jerks awake from the throes of his current nightmare, downright sick to his stomach (what's left of), because it is now Izuku's turn. And as much as that fills him with total pride, with nothing but confidence for the future's sake, the boy is simply _not ready_. And these long nights do not let Toshinori forget it.

(It is one of these especially cruel nights, one where irrational fear from imagined events grips him with a vice like never before, that pushes him to finally admit-)

His feet are leading him straight to his successor's dorm. The silence of night is broken only by the pounding of blood in his own ears. Hands trembling, he turns the knob to Izuku's room and rushes straight over to the boy-

-who is dozing soundly in a mess of blankets. Who is safe. Who hasn't been taken away from him like Nana was.

Toshinori kneels almost helplessly at the side of Izuku's bed in a way that All Might kneels before no one. Because in the face of this child, _his_ child, he has surrendered. He is utterly vulnerable.

Izuku's face is sprinkled by moonlight peeking in from the curtains. The freckles dancing across his nose are highlighted like the stars. His breaths are deep and slow; his nose twitches with his dreams. His sleeping face doesn't stir, doesn't even entirely fill Toshinori's large, calloused hands when they cup it.

"Izuku," Toshinori's voice cracks away into a whisper, because his heart has entirely filled his throat. "My boy." He doesn't know exactly how to express all that he needs to. But he knows the name, now. The name of the tangible _thing_ that squeezes the breath from his chest when he looks down at the peaceful face. The _thing_ that springs uncharacteristic tears from his eyes and drives him to plant kisses all over the sleeping child's head. Here is the first place he faces the truth fully- here, in the safety of night, where no eyes are upon him, where his wildest dreams can be given voice without the judgment of day.

"My son. I love you," Toshinori claims with words what has long been his heart's truth. "My _son_."

* * *

He doesn't give voice to it again for a time after that. 'Bravest man alive', he's deemed nowadays, along with his many other titles, but he's the first to admit he's too cowardly for this.

There _is_ one instance, at the supermarket, where he's idly picking out eggs and he engages in pleasant conversation with an elderly stranger. She ends up innocently asking whether or not he has children of his own. "Yeah," Toshinori answers without even a slight hesitation. "I have a boy."

Midoriya Inko knows. She knows without Toshinori having to speak the truth aloud. He'd already all but claimed it when he'd bowed low to the floor with the vow to raise and protect and live for Izuku; but the way Inko had accepted his offer, the way she'd looked at him with the recognition of a fellow parent, told him she knew in her heart what Toshinori was too afraid to say.

But in the face of his own boy, or of anyone else he knows, he's remained stupidly, stubbornly silent on the matter. Hasn't dared to admit it again in the judging light of day.

That pretty much ends the moment Midoriya Hisashi enters the picture.


	2. Papa was a rollin' stone

**AN**: Ya'll thought I went hard on the Dad Might in chapter one? Well gird your loins boys and girls.

* * *

**Chapter 2**: Papa was a rollin' stone

The day Hisashi arrives to town isn't some dramatic or grandiose event. In fact, it happens on a day not too unlike any other- one where Toshinori wakes up feeling in fairly good health and spirits. The morning air is fresh and cool when he goes for his early jog. Afterwards, he readies himself a cup of tea and he sits down to flick through cooking channels. Normally, Toshinori prefers to keep himself busy, but one quiet morning of solitude never hurt anybody.

'Quiet' and 'solitude' have always been rarities with his sort of lifestyle, though, so he can't say he's too surprised when they are swiftly disrupted.

It's Aizawa who calls him (out of total courtesy, he realizes later, as Toshinori isn't even Izuku's legal guardian) with a sighed out "Three guesses who." Apparently Izuku had collapsed from fatigue in the middle of class. Recovery Girl had been off campus for the day attending an event with the third years, so when Izuku remained unresponsive, the school had sent him off to the hospital.

And that's how Toshinori has found himself hurrying over to said hospital on this chilly, overcast afternoon. His initial alarm had hastened his steps, but he's now been reassured that Izuku is awake and already recovering- just in need of some rest and to take better care of himself. The boy has overworked himself again.

Unfortunately, Toshinori thinks with a wince, he himself hasn't been the best role model when it comes to that.

"My boy!" he all but booms as he strides into the hospital room. "I'm happy to see you're alright." The sight of the kid, upright with a comic book in hand and blinking at Toshinori innocently, has him sighing in equal parts relief and exasperation. "What have I told you about working yourself to death, hm? When has that ever worked in your favor?"

"Hi, All Might," Izuku greets sheepishly, rubbing at his neck as he sits up straighter in the hospital bed. Most of the color has returned to his face. "I know, I know. Sorry! I, ah, got a little carried away. I've been staying up really late to study for the exams, but I also don't wanna get behind on my physical training, so-"

"Your health is more important than either of those things, my boy," Toshinori scolds, pulling a chair up to the side of the bed. He takes a seat and lays a large palm to rest on Izuku's head. "We'll modify your training to better fit your study schedule for the next couple weeks. Alright? You're a growing boy who needs his sleep. And to eat and drink enough, kid, for goodness' sake! Basic needs first. Please. Recovery Girl is already going to have both of our heads."

"Deal," Izuku smiles. Toshinori ruffles the kid's hair fondly. Their conversation goes on to more lighthearted topics, such as the shenanigans Izuku's classmates have been getting into and the latest comic book Izuku's been reading, along with some recommendations on Toshinori's part. Seeing his boy fine and well has him feeling the peace of this morning once again.

An eventual knock at the door halts their easy conversation. Izuku's nurse enters at their prompting. "Sorry to interrupt you both. I have a phone call waiting for Midoriya-san at the nurses station," the young nurse says. "He claims to be your father."

Neither she nor Toshinori miss the way Izuku freezes up at that.

The ticking hands of the clock on the wall are all that echo through the room. Just before Toshinori is about to open his mouth to say something, _anything_, Izuku finally squeaks out: "My- really?" He eyes the nurse almost skeptically. "Are you sure?"

"He introduced himself as Midoriya Hisashi."

"Oh. Yeah. That's... him." Izuku practically shrinks where he sits.

"I can tell him you're unavailable, if you'd like," the nurse reassures at Izuku's clear discomfort.

"Uh, no! That's okay. I'll talk to him. Thank you."

She transfers the call over to Izuku's room and excuses herself almost apologetically. Toshinori follows suit with a last reassuring ruffle to Izuku's hair, not wanting to seem like he's intruding on the upcoming conversation, even as a frown has begun to tug at his lips. When he leaves he doesn't miss Izuku's quiet, almost painfully shy greeting into the phone of "Hi".

Definitely an underwhelming reaction from a kid who hasn't seen his father in... how many years? Toshinori doesn't even truly know. He himself has been around for nearly two, and he hasn't seen a trace of the man. He hadn't even had a _name_ until now.

Toshinori very well knows he's free to leave the hospital right then. Izuku is physically fine, a little weak but likely to be released from the hospital later this afternoon, and his classmates are coming by after school to keep him company. But he can't seem to shake Izuku's strange reaction to Hisashi's call. Thus, his curiosity and slight concern keep him lingering around, pretending to have great interest in the artwork adorning the hospital halls (all of farmland and cows, he notes offhandedly) until he gets the all clear to re-enter the room.

"He's on his way over to see me," Izuku blurts out at the man as soon as he's back inside. "He stopped by the school first but they told him I'd gotten sick." 'Nervous' isn't exactly an oddity when it comes to describing Izuku, but right now, the kid looks about one second away from fleeing right through the window. Toshinori settles himself back into a chair, watching Izuku carefully.

"Do you want to see him?"

Izuku opens his mouth only to close it again. The poor kid is starting to sweat bullets. "I think he's happy I have a quirk, now," he admits after a beat, avoiding both the question and Toshinori's gaze.

Toshinori is quiet for a moment. He schools his expression to remain impartial. "Was he upset that you didn't have one before?"

"I don't know," Izuku shrugs, sliding downwards in his bed. "It's just, I haven't seen him in person since I was nine. And he says he's been planning this surprise trip out ever since he watched the Sports Festival on TV. He says he's really proud of me and stuff, I just- I don't think he would've made the effort, otherwise? But, but I could be wrong. I don't want to speak badly of him. Or to make _you_ think badly of him. Because he's really _not_ all that bad-"

Toshinori's frown has only grown alongside Izuku's rambling speed. Izuku, though he does still get easily flustered, has made definite leaps and bounds when it comes to his own confidence. Now, though, he's stammering as badly as the bullied middle-schooler All Might had first met. "Izuku," he interrupts firmly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Izuku peers up at him from over bed covers that are now practically up to his chin. Green eyes meet blue. "Toshinori," he nearly whispers, as if he's about to reveal some awful secret, and Toshinori startles at the still-rare use of his first name from the boy. "I don't- I don't really want to see him."

Toshinori straightens in his seat. There's that unbidden protectiveness again- the kind seemingly reserved for this kid, the kind that crawls up from his gut and demands his full attention, logical or no. The very same kind that had reared it's head when Toshinori got word that Shigaraki had threatened his boy at the mall with four of five fingers on his throat (even as the rational part of Toshinori's brain attempts to soothe by reminding him that this current threat is very, _very_ different).

Right now, he doesn't even need the details of w_hy_ Izuku doesn't want to see his father. "You don't _have_ to do anything, kid."

Izuku blinks in surprise. "Well, I kind of do. I mean... he took off a bunch of work. And came all the way from _America!"_

"So?" Toshinori asks shortly. "I don't see why you need to drop everything on the rare occasion he likes to make an appearance in your life." He probably shouldn't go off insulting a man he's never met and knows next to nothing about (in front of his own son, nonetheless) but also finds he can't really bring himself to care.

Izuku's scarred fingers are fiddling with the bed covers. "I- it's- that's nice of you, All Might, but you don't understand. I mean- I think it's partly my own fault he doesn't come back more. Really."

Well, okay. Not a single part of this conversation has helped to tame the heat beginning to surge through Toshinori's veins. "Why on _E__arth_\- kid, give me one good reason that could _possibly_ be your fault?"

"I have _more_ than one reason," Izuku insists, suddenly very bold. He doesn't seem to pay mind to Toshinori's rapidly darkening mood. "I overheard him talking to Mom one time. I don't think he ever wanted a kid in the first place." His small fingers haven't stopped playing with the bed covers. "And then in kindergarten, when Kacchan got his quirk, my dad always thought it was _so_ cool. And I just, I never got anything like it..." He takes a deep breath as if propelling himself to keep on talking. "And I was always, _always_ worrying my mom. Because of... bullies and stuff. I just wasn't an easy kid to have. I don't think he liked dealing with it." His breathing picks up speed. "So I asked him, the last time I saw him, if... if I was _better_, if he'd come back. To be with Mom and I."

He looks up at Toshinori at last, practically peeking out from a cocoon of blankets, he's sunk down so far in the bed. "Now I have a quirk. And now he's come back. So I think I have my answer."

Izuku may not exactly be saying it all coherently- it's as if this is all something the boy has never dared try to voice aloud before- but Toshinori picks up on all that he means perfectly fine.

He's heard all he needs to. Before he even registers what he's doing, or what he's about to do, he's standing.

"When will he be here?" is all Toshinori asks, the picture of calm, straightening out his collar.

"Uh. Probably any minute. He was on his way when he called." Izuku eyeballs Toshinori suspiciously. "Wait, why? What are you doing?"

"I'm just going to try and catch him before he gets here. See if he can at least wait until you're home to catch up with you. You need your rest right now, anyways." Toshinori hasn't pasted on a smile this fake in a long, long time. "How does that sound?"

"Uh. Okay. If you're sure. But you _really_ don't have to do that." Izuku is too smart for his own good and looks a little panicky at this point, as though he already regrets his admissions to his mentor. Before he can try to talk Toshinori out of anything, however, the man has ruffled his hair (more stiffly than before) and turned on his heel to stride out of the room-

-where he's unexpectedly greeted with the sight of two of his students coming from down the hall.

"All Might!" Kirishima calls out in greeting and some confusion. He's holding a stack of papers in the hand that isn't waving at him vigorously. Bakugo is accompanying him, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. He also looks significantly less surprised by All Might's presence here.

All Might keeps his pasted-on smile for the boys. Inwardly, he groans. He's currently so tense he doesn't know if he has it in him for pleasantries. "Hey there. Here to visit Young Midoriya?"

"Just for a sec. I brought him some notes from class." Kirishima gestures to the stack in his hand. "Iida and some of the others are coming by later, but he asked me to drop these off, since I could get over here earlier. I live right down the street!"

"Hand the damn nerd his shit so we can leave," Bakugo growls out. "I _hate_ hospitals."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be quick, man. Is now an okay time to see him, All Might?"

"Hmm? Yeah. That should be fine. He's doing well," Toshinori answers distractedly, eyes flicking behind his students in anticipation of Hisashi's appearance. Bakugo looks up at him with piqued interest.

"Who pissed _you_ off?" the kid asks bluntly.

All Might bites back a sigh. He thought he'd gotten at least a _little_ better at schooling his expressions. Or perhaps Bakugo is just especially emotionally in-tune with anger.

"No one, Young Bakugo. I'm just... waiting... for Midoriya's father," he says awkwardly. He eyes Bakugo for his reaction, knowing his long history with Izuku. The boy's crimson and ever-narrowed eyes actually widen a bit in surprise.

"That deadbeat is actually showing up?"

"You've met him, then? I'm afraid I don't even know who I'm looking for. Could you tell me what he looks like?"

"How the hell am I supposed to remember? Haven't seen the guy since we were, I don't know. Five." The boy's eyes flash with something unreadable. "What's he want with Deku _now?"_

_Excellent question, my boy._

"Bakugo? No way. Long time no see, kid!"

Tousled dark hair and freckles sprinkled across his face, a man- who Toshinori can only assume is Midoriya Hisashi- approaches the trio from behind. He grins at them all, at Bakugo in particular. "You may be all grown, now, but it's easy to tell it's you. I saw you in the Sport's Festival. I always knew you'd grow up to be something great."

The boy in question responds with a noncommittal grunt.

The comment itself has Toshinori's face pulling even deeper a frown. What an oddly proud way to greet the boy who's basically tormented and belittled the man's son his entire life. Perhaps Hisashi is simply unaware of Bakugo's volatile attitude towards Izuku? _That's_ a little hard to believe; all one needs is a single handful of functioning brain cells to figure it out. Or to just let Bakugo open his mouth to speak about Izuku for two seconds.

"Maybe Inko and I can get together with your parents while I'm still in town," Hisashi is saying to the boy. "It's been too long."

"Hmph," Bakugo grumbles. "Like I _care_ what you do." He snatches the homework from Kirishima's hand to stuff it into Toshinori's instead. _"You_ give this to Deku. I'm out of here. I told you all, I_ hate hospitals_." He catches Toshinori off guard when he gives him a knowing look, then he gives Hisashi a glare, grabbing Kirishima's arm to turn him in the other direction. "C'mon."

"Uh. Okay." Kirishima looks completely dumbfounded by this entire situation. He lets Bakugo push him along anyway, at least getting the hint that they need to _leave_. "Bye, Mr. Midoriya. See you later, All Might."

"All Might, huh? So it _is_ you. I thought I recognized you." Hisashi turns to face him fully, ever pleasant. He grins at the taller man. "Izuku so admired you as a kid. He must be the biggest fanboy about having you as a teacher."

He smells faintly of smoke. Toshinori recalls Izuku mentioning that his father has a fire-breathing quirk. He also recalls Izuku being particularly averse to the smell.

Toshinori's pasted on smile is beginning to hurt his face. He gives it up entirely. "He'll be an excellent hero," is all he decides to say. "I'm certain he'll surpass me one day."

"It's wild," Hisashi shakes his head. "To think he ended up with a quirk, after all. All that time... it would have been great if I could have helped him hone it."

Toshinori's jaw twitches. "Yes. I'm sure you being there to help him would have been much appreciated. _Especially_ while he was quirkless."

Hisashi must recognize something in Toshinori's tone because he actually flinches a bit. Then he straightens himself to stand ever higher, looking Toshinori up and down, eyes glinting competitively.

"Lucky for him he's had a Pro Hero like you around the past couple years, then, huh?"

"Mm."

No doubt the man has his similarities to Izuku, Toshinori observes. Wild curls and freckled skin. But his eyes are gray and disinterested where Izuku's are bright and lively. His face is sharper, more angular, not quite the open book for all emotions that his sons is. His affect is pleasant but superficially so; it lacks the genuine and utter honesty that is Izuku.

Certainly not some villain out of a storybook (like Toshinori's internal, protective alarms are still blaring that he is) but here is the thing: by the time Toshinori had entered Izuku's life, the kid had virtually no one besides his mother who, bless Inko's heart, works all hours of the day. The child had been so lonesome and his self-esteem had been nonexistent. To this day, Toshinori has been diligently teaching Izuku to realize his own worth.

Hisashi, living overseas or no, could have played _some _role in his own son's life to prevent it from getting so bad. To ensure Izuku didn't suffer alone. And he'd willingly remained absent.

Toshinori had heard it again today for the first time in awhile- in Izuku's voice, in his hesitant words. Downplaying his self-worth while speaking of Hisashi's opinions of him.

It was something Toshinori decidedly wouldn't forgive the man for.

"Well, the kid's sure had an eventful few years, anyway," Hisashi mumbles, moving to step past Toshinori. "Can't wait to ask him all about it."

"Actually," Toshinori shifts his weight, nonchalantly, just enough so that his large and lanky frame is placed solidly between Hisashi and Izuku's room. He may not be in his muscle form, but he still carries every bit of its authority. "Izuku isn't feeling up to visitors right now. As you can imagine. Perhaps it can wait until he's back home? You'll be in town for a bit, won't you?"

"Not 'feeling up' to it? I'm his _father._ Who he hasn't seen in seven years."

"Yes, well, I hardly think that's his fault."

The smell of smoke begins to more heavily fill Toshinori's nose. "You seem to have quite the opinion on my standing in my son's life," Hisashi says tightly, having dropped all pleasantries for now. "What's any of it to you?"

_"My_ opinion of you hardly matters, Midoriya," Toshinori says smoothly. "But I am fairly invested in the kid's best interest. And he's not feeling well."

"Oh, Jesus Christ- he's just being difficult to spite me for not being around more, isn't he?" Hisashi exclaims suddenly, as if putting the pieces together. "That goddamn kid. Always so over-fucking emotional about every little thing. I'll go wait for him at home, if he needs a second, but if he's going to be so ungrateful as to-"

If Toshinori had felt like a vein was about to pop in his forehead _before_... "I'd be very careful while choosing your next words, if I were you," Toshinori warns lowly. Will the Symbol of Peace wind up killing someone in cold blood today? There's a first time for everything, they say. And he's always considered himself an adventurous type. "I've never met a more considerate or grateful child than Izuku. It's clear how little you know him if you're even able to make those kinds of assumptions."

"He pulls dramatic crap like this every time I'm here. Cries and cries. Then he wonders why I don't come by more often. You think I don't know the kid?" Hisashi chuckles almost mockingly. "He's my _blood."_

Toshinori is honestly rendered speechless for a moment. Too busy trying to fathom how this infuriatingly aloof man has so callously dismissed such a gift of a son. As he stares down at Hisashi, jaw so tightly wound he's surprised teeth don't break, his mind kicks into overdrive. Whirls with memories of Izuku; of every sleepless night Toshinori has spent worrying over the boy, or helping to plan out his future.

The day he taught an embarrassed Izuku how to shave, and the other that he patiently guided the boy's fumbling, clumsy fingers into tying a tie.

The way that Izuku slipping up and calling him 'Dad' one day in the middle of class may have absolutely mortified the poor kid to no end, but it was the loudest Toshinori's surprised heart had ever sung. The way he nearly bursts with pride at just the thought of Izuku's journey thus far. The way that he, the goddamn _Symbol of Peace_, would probably _kill_ for this kid, if need be. The tears, happy and frustrated, he's shed over his boy; Toshinori, who would never have been deemed a crier in a previous life.

The alarms he now sets for the mornings.

Toshinori's mind absolutely spins with all the ways his boy has changed his life over the course of two short years. How dare Hisashi, having been present for none, claim to possibly understand all that Izuku is?

"Blood isn't enough," is what he finally responds. "There are things thicker."

Small, sparking flames have ignited at the tip of Hisashi's nose as the man's breathing grows deep, noisy. Wisps of smoke begin to trail their way into the hallway. "And what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Izuku chooses this moment to appear at the doorway of his room, in his crumpled white hospital scrubs, clutching onto the door frame tightly as if he'll fall over otherwise. Both men's heads snap over to look at the boy- Toshinori with concern, Hisashi with increasing irritation. Smoke continues to billow and puff out of the man's nose in waves.

Izuku looks up to Hisashi with wide eyes. "Please, don't fight! Don't be mad at All Might. He didn't do anything wrong. I'm- I'm the one who said I didn't want to see anyone right now."

"Izuku, you need to rest," Toshinori breathes, subconsciously stepping closer the boy in case he needs to reach him if he falls.

(The nurses had assured him that Izuku should be fine to be up and about; that doesn't stop him from reacting on instinct, anyway.)

"So this is the thanks I get for coming out all this way to see you?" Hisashi asks his son bitterly. "Who k_nows_ the next time I'll be able to get a flight back out here. Do you ever consider things like that?"

"I'm sorry," Izuku is wincing. "It's not that I'm not happy to see you. It's just, I didn't even know you were coming and I- I don't feel great right now."

"The fact that I'm even _here_ isn't good enough for you? Sorry that this visit wasn't on _your_ terms, kiddo, but the world doesn't always operate that way," Hisashi's tone is chilled as ice. "Do you just think you're too good, now, now that you've had some time in the spotlight? Now that you have hot shots like _All Might_ training with you?"

Izuku's jaw positively drops and oh, Toshinori can _feel_ the steam coming out of his own ears. "I've _never_ thought-" Izuku starts shakily, just as Toshinori fully rounds on the man. "Yes, _about_ that," Toshinori grounds out. "Peculiar timing, isn't it? Finally showing some interest in your kid just as he's starting to make a name for himself?"

"You know nothing," Hisashi hisses. "Everything I've done, every minute I've been away, it's _all_ been for my family."

_"Stop_ it!" Izuku exclaims, hands grabbing his own hair in despair. "Please. I don't want you to fight."

"Then just agree to see me."

"I- it's just-"

"You know what? Tell me this, Izuku," Hisashi sighs, impatient, turning so that he towers over his son. Smoke trails from his nose and twines its way around Izuku's small frame. "Why is it that nothing can ever be easy with you? Everything has to be cried over. _Everything's _a hassle. Why do you always have to make things so damn _difficult?"_

Izuku flinches back as if struck. Toshinori is between the two before anyone can so much as blink.

_"Enough."_ Toshinori's voice is stone, halting, authoritative as All Might's is with the worst of villains. It sends an absolute chill through the hall. The steam rising off Toshinori's body swirls, dances in with Hisashi's smoke. Both Hisashi and Izuku are deathly still as they stare up at the man. "I've heard _enough._ You will _mind_ the way you speak to my boy, Midoriya."

"Yours," Hisashi attempts to clarify, indignant. _"Yours?"_ He coughs due to the inhalation of his own smoke. "I still don't get your business here, All Might," he says hoarsely through his fit. "Last I checked, none of this involved you."

"It certainly did involve me," Toshinori retorts coolly, "the very moment it involved my_ son."_

"Sir!" one of the older nurses snaps over at them. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you can't get your quirk under control. This is a hospital. We can't have you filling these patient's halls with that smoke."

"Ah, perfect. You heard the kind woman. Izuku's made it perfectly clear he doesn't want to see you, anyhow," Toshinori says, waving his hand dismissively. "And I'm about done watching you push the matter on him."

Hisashi is still staring at him blankly. Izuku isn't faring much better. The boy's face has turned beet red and he looks as though he may _actually_ fall over. He tries to say something, seems like, but it just comes out as a squeak.

Hisashi, dangerously quiet, snaps out of his daze. The smoke dies down but the fire in his eyes does not. He shoots a final scathing look at Toshinori, at Izuku, coughing and hacking over whatever final words he may have tried to leave them with before the nurse shoos him off the floor.

Toshinori sighs out the last of his tension, body flooding with relief. Then he swiftly guides a gaping Izuku back into his room.

"You," Izuku starts, eyes wide as saucers, letting Toshinori steer him right back to his bed, "you called me-!"

"Yes, Izuku," Toshinori says wearily, with no small amount of fondness. "And I meant it, too." He pinches the bridge of his nose after he's sat Izuku down. "Ah. I think he managed to give me a few stress ulcers."

"I'm so, so sorry," Izuku sputters. "Oh my gosh, that was horrible. He's not usually _that_ bad. Really. But he does have a temper and once he gets wound up over something-"

"My boy! Ever the prince of nonsense. _You_ have nothing to apologize for." Toshinori sits down in his chair so that he's fully facing Izuku. He searches the boy's face worriedly. "You didn't happen to hear everything, did you?"

Izuku looks down at his hands in shame. "I- yeah, I did. It was kind of hard not to."

Toshinori sighs, chest heavy. Izuku's shoulders slump with his sadness.

"Izuku..."

"Why didn't he _want_ me, All Might?"

And if that doesn't sink Toshinori's heart right down into the pit of his stomach. "I... Mm." He swallows a swell of emotion down thickly. He can't even imagine a good enough answer to that. Instead, he places his hands on Izuku's shoulders. His long fingers are able to enclose around them entirely, like armor. "My boy. Look at me, please." He gently nudges the boy's chin up so that he understands the severity of his next words. "Quirk or no quirk. I couldn't _dream up _someone more worthwhile. Do you understand me?"

Izuku's bottom lip trembles in response.

"You are more than Midoriya Hisashi says you are," Toshinori keeps going, voice firm, leaving little room for question. "He doesn't _know_ you. And I'd dare say he's the biggest fool on Earth for it. He's thrown away the greatest gift he'll ever receive."

Izuku's eyes are beginning to brim over with tears. He firmly tries to shake his head.

"You are the kindest boy I've ever known. Incredibly selfless, brave, strong. _Badass,_ even." Izuku scoffs wetly, still oh-so-stubbornly shaking his head. "The day I met you, you saved me, Izuku. One person All Might himself couldn't save." Izuku hurriedly wipes away at his own tears with the heel of his hand.

"I didn't..." Izuku croaks out.

"You absolutely _did," _Toshinori affirms, unyielding. Confronting Hisashi has him feeling suddenly brave where he'd been previously bound by fear. The image of the man, looming over Izuku as his smoke encircled the boy, had lit a fire under Toshinori. He'll _shower_ Izuku with the things he's been too cowardly to say. "My happiest gift. My greatest joy." He cups Izuku's tearful, crumpled face. "Your father is obviously blind. But I _see_ you, Izuku."

The floodgates have officially opened to make way for Izuku's waterworks. He clutches onto Toshinori tightly when he's pulled to into his chest, small hands twisting into the fabric of the man's shirt, wailing all the while.

Toshinori shushes him gently, one large hand holding the boy's head close to his heart, rocking them both ever so slightly. He feels lighter, freer, as though a weight as been lifted after telling Izuku his truths.

Izuku's started to babble something but it's muffled into Toshinori's shirt. Toshinori presses a quick kiss onto the child's head, leaning back to give him the room to speak.

"What was that, my boy?"

"Thank- thank you. For sticking up- up for me, with him," Izuku hiccups. His tears have begun to die down a bit. "And for- for being there. When he wasn't."

Toshinori's eyes crinkle with his sad smile. "Those aren't things you need to thank me for."

"I just- I used to always wish-" Izuku rubs at his reddened eyes nervously. "That you were my dad. So it's nice, really nice, that you..."

"My boy," Toshinori admits tiredly, "you know how long I've considered you my own? Since our earliest days, on Dagobah Beach." He pushes the boy's hair out of his face. "I'm sorry I took so long to say it."

Izuku smiles wetly, shakily, up at him. Toshinori's returning smile isn't so dry, either.

"My son," he says once more, simply for the sake of saying it, and he finds himself instantly elated.

Ah, yes.

It's most certainly more enjoyable when spoken aloud.

* * *

From here on out, this previously quiet, guarded, unspoken thing becomes decidedly _not _so unspoken. And not just in the face of elderly ladies picking their eggs at the supermarket.

When _anyone, _press, colleagues, strangers or otherwise, inquires after whether Toshinori ever ended up having children of his own, his answer is unabashedly proud. His smile beams brightly enough to rival the sun.

"Why, yes," is his only answer nowadays, every time. "I have a boy."

* * *

**AN**: You all are so nice! Thank you so much for your kind reviews. I absolutely love hearing about the parts you enjoyed most. I really didn't mean to make Hisashi a TOTAL dick... or to have such uncontained, cavity-inducing levels of Dad Might... it all just kind of happened. Hehe. Hope you all enjoyed it anyhow.

Also- sorry for the long wait! I'm generally a slow writer, and I'm also a fairly newly graduated nurse, and getting used to my career is exciting but also kicking my butt a bit. Writing is good for my soul though.

I've had a few more My Hero story ideas brewing, so maybe expect another fic from me in the future? Thank you again!


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